Missed Connections
by massivelyattacked
Summary: The continuing saga of Elirezara Surana and Anders and their friendship as their paths diverge.


**I am SOOOOOO sorry to all my readers! It has been a bit of an ordeal as of late. You can read about it on my profile…I made sure that I filled you all in on just why I haven't been around and writing…or reading…or betaing. In any case, I'm back now…at least able to write new stories. The old ones will continue eventually.**

**This story follows Anders and Elirezara in a sort of more disjointed way than previous stories have. It's meant as a follow up to "Under a Moonlit Sky". So if you haven't read that, or the other previous four stories before that, please do. It'll give you an idea of just how far these two have come. It always makes me laugh when I read those "missed connections" ads on Craigslist. I thought it was appropriate given the circumstances of this story.**

**So thanks again for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy this one. You might even have an inkling of what's to come after this one. Maybe even better than I know!**

**[insert standard disclaimer here]**

* * *

><p><em>Missed Connections<em>

It was _never_ his intent to return to the Tower.

And it was easily the most successful escape Anders had made to date – aside from the part where the templars caught up to him. He had been on the run for over ten months. He'd almost made it a full year in Ferelden. But then, he began to grow complacent. Cocky even.

His previous attempts to escape from the Tower barely yielded him a few weeks of freedom, often being recaptured after a few short days. He had no idea how to behave once the first month passed. And then the second.

By the sixth month of being on the run, he started to feel his confidence growing again.

_I __can __do __this_, he would say to himself. _I __can __live __my __life __on __the __run. __I __don__'__t __need __friends. __I __just __need __freedom._

Eventually he started to ignore his own advice and returned to the same places. Taking refuge in the same farmer's outbuildings…seeking temporary work at the same tavern so often that it became a permanent job.

Still, he kept to himself enough that no one really paid the generally clean young man with unkempt blond hair any mind. That is, until the day a strikingly beautiful woman of some noble stature stayed at the inn attached to the tavern where Anders worked.

While sweeping up the entranceway to the tavern, he could see the woman stride by him towards the inn. His mouth fell open slightly in response. She was stunning, radiant even.

His first mistake was staring at her. His second, was making eye contact. And it was all downhill from there.

After all was said and done, the woman ended up being a templar hunter. And she was _specifically_ hunting for Anders. The templars at the Tower knew his weakness for a beautiful woman, and had sent her out as part of their primary search unit. He could only assume that they were very desperate to return him to captivity and that they had sent out his description throughout the country. He was not about to make the same mistake he had before by flirting with a random barmaid…trying to woo her with some electricity tricks. His freedom for a one night stand.

No, he was not about to make the same mistake twice.

He was genuinely shocked when the woman had revealed her true identity as she chatted him up in the tavern. His stomach knotted when three other templars entered the tavern door. As the sick smile spread across the woman's face, he forced himself to recall every action since her arrival. Every look he gave her. Every move he made. There is nothing that could have given him away. No. This time it was not his fault. The only mistake he made was staying in a single place too long.

Should he be given another opportunity to escape the Tower, he would _never_ make that mistake again.

He just wasn't so sure that another opportunity would be coming. As they dragged him across the threshold of the Tower's main entrance, he could feel the grip of the men holding him tighten even further. He felt his arms begin to lose sensation – they were cutting off the flow of blood to his hands and his fingertips were starting to tingle. He had almost hoped it were an automatic response to being back under their control; that somehow the mana flowing through him was conjuring up some unseen electrical current that would let loose upon all surrounding him. Alas, the pins and needles forming in his hands were of no magical sort.

"Anders. I see you've returned to us," he heard a gruff voice say.

He raised his head slightly to see Knight Commander Greagoir standing quite imposingly over him. But he made no sound or acknowledgement to the man. As the two templars continued dragging him past, he heard Greagoir continue to speak.

"Bring him to the cells in the lower level. I must speak with Irving promptly, and will follow you down shortly. Do not lay a hand on him before I arrive."

The mage was shocked to hear he was not to be touched – or at least not until Greagoir had a moment to get to him first. He wasn't sure what to think about the statement, but immediately put it out of his head. The void that was created was quickly flooded by thoughts of Elirezara. What would she think about his return? How would she act? Would she be there for him as she always was?

Squeezing his eyes shut, he thought about the last night they spent together. He had cherished the feel of her curled up into him as they sat in the chilly night air waiting for the eclipse. He did not know just how she would react when she found out he had left her yet again. Oh, he had an inkling of an idea, but would she have understood? After he had told her that he was to be made tranquil very soon after? He hoped that it would have been enough for her to forgive him for running…

Perhaps he would find out soon. They didn't often let others into the dungeons. But Irving often felt pity for him. Pity was probably the reason he was allowed to take part the night of the lunar eclipse. Anders wasn't sure just how much further pity would take him in this situation. Irving was sure to be furious with him over this most recent escape attempt. Though sometimes he wondered if the old man perhaps didn't feel a small bit of pride for just how relentless he'd become in his attempts. Deep down, would Irving have wanted to do the same given the chance?

Maybe…just maybe…Irving's pity for Anders and respect for Elirezara might persuade him to allow the girl to visit with her friend. Maybe…

He allowed himself to open his eyes and immediately regretted doing so. He was roughly tossed into a small narrow cell with barely any visual access to the main corridor. As he landed in the dusty corner of it, he cowered from the two men who had escorted him there, waiting for the first blow to be landed. To their credit, they followed Greagoir's orders to not strike him. The two smirked at each other in response to the look of terror and shock on the mage's face and one threw a dank-smelling blanket at him prior to locking the cell and walking away.

When the footsteps of the two men faded into the distance, doors clanking and locking behind them, Anders wrapped the old blanket around him. He was cold, tired and sore from the journey back to the Tower. His head throbbed and he could feel the grip he had on his own magic fading steadily. Somewhere in this area were wards designed to disconnect a mage from the Fade. And they worked. Too well. His head lolled back slightly and hit the cold brick and mortar wall.

He closed his eyes. And saw her. Only her.

* * *

><p>"Anders."<p>

_What am I hearing? Am I in the Fade?_

But he knew that could not be, for the wards made the mana in his veins burn. As if it was being stripped from within him. Pulled out of his bloodstream in some cruel experiment.

The mage slowly opened his eyes, allowing them to focus on the voice that called his name.

"You are still with us then," the now all too familiar voice said gently. It was Irving. Anders could see the man was obviously in discomfort – likely the effect of the same wards that he was dealing with. They seemed to be stronger the longer one was exposed to them, and that meant Irving would not be there for long. Anders looked up at him expectantly.

"How are you my boy?" the older man asked the younger. When Anders did not reply, Irving nodded knowingly. "I apologize for the wards. Unfortunately when it comes to this sort of activity, I have no say in the matter. This is Greagoir's area. Of course, you already know that."

He shuffled quietly over to a small stone bench facing the bars of Anders' cage and sat down heavily. Sighing, he looked at the young man with sad eyes.

"Why did you run again Anders?"

He tightened the blanket around him further, as if it were a shield from the First Enchanter's questions. Taking a deep breath, he looked into Irving's eyes from afar.

"I…I overheard you talking to the Knight Commander. When I requested to take part in the lunar eclipse viewing. I heard what you said to him," Anders admitted. He quickly turned away from Irving when he finished speaking.

"You heard…you heard me speak of the plans to put you through the Rite of Tranquility then," Irving stated.

Anders nodded slowly.

"I do not fault your desire to run," the man said, shocking Anders once more. "However you must understand that the Circles exist for your protection as much as the protection of those who are not mages."

"Do you really believe that First Enchanter?" he sputtered. "How can you _possibly_ believe that they are trying to protect us?"

"Anders," Irving began, "the world is much crueler than I would like to admit to myself. So many apprentices were brought to the Tower because their own parents lived in fear of them. They did not know how to help them control their newfound powers. Property has been damaged. People have been hurt, even killed by young mages coming into their own abilities. The Circles exist to help harness that power. And to help protect those of us who simply do not have the skills to protect themselves from their own abilities."

Anders shook his head. "The Circles exist to prevent us from exacting revenge on our oppressors!"

Irving sighed loudly. "My dear boy, you are at a stage in your life that we have all gone through. 'Why should I be controlled? Why do I have to live in a Circle? Why can't I just do what I want to do?' You are in a period of rebellion because you simply do not understand the benefits that living within the Circle allows us."

"The benefits? There are benefits to this existence?"

"You have a place to live. Three meals a day. An excellent education –"

"An excellent education that I'll never be able to put into practice because I'll never leave this bloody Tower!" he growled back.

"There are plenty of opportunities for Harrowed mages to leave the Tower for research and other reasons. Senior Enchanter Wynne left with several other Enchanters to take part in the efforts at Ostagar," Irving countered.

"Efforts at Ostagar?" Anders said, a look of confusion settling over his face.

"There is talk of a new blight developing in the south. The Grey Wardens were here months ago recruiting and requested the assistance of several of our mages at the fortress. That was when…" The man halted his words quickly.

"When what?" Anders immediately questioned.

"I must go," he replied quickly. "But I will return and we will speak again."

The young mage looked at Irving, still confused over his sudden desire to leave.

"First Enchanter…please. Before you go," he said.

"Yes?"

"Will I be able to see Elirezara? I realize that this might be a tough request for you to fulfill, but—"

"It will be an impossible request to fulfill," Irving snapped.

"I don't know if I can make it through being here without seeing her once," he implored.

"You don't understand, Anders," he replied. "Elirezara is gone. Perhaps due to your influence, she made the decision to help a fellow apprentice – a blood mage – escape the Tower. The day after her Harrowing, at that. They failed. The blood mage escaped, but Elirezara would have been sentenced to die for her part in the attempt had it not been for the intervention of the Grey Wardens. She was conscripted into their ranks; left the Tower for Ostagar that night."

Anders stared at Irving in shock, trying to let the man's words sink in.

"She's gone…"

"Anders…Ostagar was a disaster. The Wardens were slaughtered."

The young mage's eyes widened and his hands began to shake.

"I'm sorry," Irving said, turning away from the cell. "I wish I had better news for you."

As Irving's footfalls subsided, Anders collapsed into more of a heap on the ground than he already was. He clenched his fists until the nails digging into his palms caused them to bleed. Shakes began to wrack his body. His cries began to echo throughout the cells in the basement of the Tower.

Eventually silence fell over the Circle's lower levels again as exhaustion overtook Anders and his tears subsided.

* * *

><p>In the several days that followed, the templars brought Anders food a few times daily. Every other day, a large bowl of hot water was brought for him to wash up. He was despondent, yet internally surprised at the level of civility they expressed towards him. Though they still shot rude remarks in his direction, not a hand was laid upon him. Greagoir observed him for a short time in the cell, but the man did not speak to him. Irving did not return.<p>

When two days had passed without the templars returning with food or his wash basin, Anders began to worry. Strange noises started to emanate from the upper floors. He heard screams and cries. Something was definitely wrong.

_I've got to get out of here._

"Hello?" he called out into the silence. His voice echoed off of the cells walls and down the corridor to the main lower hall. No response came.

"Please…let me out…" he whimpered, falling forward into the iron bars that caged him in. Two days without food would certainly weaken him, and the presence of the mana-draining wards had been eating away at him for almost a week. He would not last long in this cage if someone didn't let him out. As if signaling his potential demise, he spotted the bones of some unfortunate soul who had been left to rot in the cell opposite his. "Heeeelp meeeee!"

He let loose a blood-curdling scream into the darkness; one full of angst and fear. Still…no one answered.

He slumped to the ground, pounding his fist on the cold stone below him.

"Why did they have to find me and bring me here, only to abandon me? Why? Why did you have to help that blood mage escape Eli? And why did you have to die? Why couldn't I have stopped being so selfish? I could have just stayed here with you. Protected you. I could have saved you…" His questions and protests to the air around him became hushed whispers into the ground. His head shoved roughly into his arms, as if burying himself away from the world would make reality take a vacation.

"Anders?"

He jerked upright. "Petra?" He immediately recognized the mage who often assisted Wynne with her classes.

"Anders, I need to get you out of here. The Tower…oh…it's horrible," she cried out, clearly frightened.

"What's happened?" he asked. "I have heard…terrible sounds."

"There are demons and abominations everywhere. The templars…they can't control it," she said.

To his own surprise, Anders did not feel satisfied at the templars' lack of power over the situation. The fear of what he would find should he ever emerge from his cage was overpowering even his desire to see an end to the Order.

"Petra, I don't know how to get out of here. There must be a templar with a key to the cells. There's no way magic can be used down here," he instructed.

She nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can." The woman hurried off in search of a key.

Anders leaned back against the wall, grabbing his head in his hands. "Oh Eli…what am I going to do?" he asked. "I wish you were here. You were always smarter than me. You'd know exactly what to do."

Time passed slowly. Anders had no idea if it were minutes ticking away, or hours. When Petra finally returned and apologized for her delay, he assumed the latter had passed.

"There are so many dead, Anders. And some are injured, but too many are dead. We have to get out of here," she said as she fumbled with the keys. She tested several in the lock to no avail. "Oh, it's no use!" She threw the keys to the ground.

"Petra," Anders said quietly. "You have to keep trying. I will be stuck in here if you don't. Please keep trying."

She nodded and bent over to retrieve the keys from the ground. She attempted several other keys in the lock and finally found the correct one. The two mages rejoiced a little at the sound of the lock clicking and Anders quickly embraced her when the door swung open.

"Who's with you?" he asked.

She rattled off a few names, including that of Wynne, and several of the very young apprentices.

"That's all? That's all that's left?" he cried out.

She nodded sadly.

"I can't be out of this place fast enough," he said, changing the subject. "Let's go."

The two rushed through the labyrinthine corridors of the lower levels and finally came to the large hall where Wynne and the others were held up. A barrier of blue light held at one door. Everyone looked tired and frightened.

"Anders!" Wynne exclaimed, obviously shocked at his presence.

"Senior Enchanter," he nodded. "Can you not get out that way?" He pointed in the direction of the main entrance.

Petra shook her head. "The templars that are left are on the other side. They have barred it for fear of what is beyond."

Anders' mind went into a panic, wondering if the templars had discovered his escape route from his previous escape attempt. If it was still open, they could all escape that way. He had to try to find out.

"I may have a way out, but it might be dangerous. I will go find it and if it's safe enough, I will return to bring you all with me. Perhaps one of you could come with me," he offered.

"Wynne, you should go," Petra suggested.

The older woman quickly shook her head. "No, I must remain here to hold up the barrier. And I will need you here in case it fails. These children cannot defend themselves."

"Then perhaps you should go on your own, Anders," Petra said.

He nodded at the women. "I will hurry back! And Petra…thank you for freeing me. You…have no idea…"

"Go," she replied.

Anders spun on his heel and hurried back towards the apprentice quarters. He darted into the boys' dormitory, searching for something – anything he could use as a weapon. A staff would be ideal. And some poultices for the road. He checked several footlockers, and a couple of chests that happened to be unlocked. Lucky for him, some smart little apprentice had stored a few vials of healing potion and some lyrium as well. However, finding a weapon was proving to be much more difficult. At that point, he'd have been happy to have found some daggers even. Just _some_thing to defend himself should the need arise. Finding nothing further in the boys' dorm, he moved on to the room next door.

The girls' dormitory was just as deserted and empty as the previous room. He looked under bunks and in footlockers. Finally, lying behind a chest near one of the last bunks against the wall, he discovered a discarded staff. It wasn't particularly powerful but he could feel a warm sensation as it clasped it in his hand – this staff would likely improve his fire elemental magic.

Anders smiled his first smile since being discovered by the templars and hauled back to the Circle. As he looked up, he realized where he was. And only one bed separated where he stood from Eli's former bunk. He approached it cautiously, reaching out a hand to rest it softly on the covers. She'd have not slept in it for months – he'd even wondered if a new apprentice was assigned to it after she left. Yet, she lingered. Her imprint still seemed to be present. He lowered himself to sit on the bed, and found himself quickly curling up on to his side. Closing his eyes, he thought of the many times he'd intruded upon her personal space there; sitting at the edge of the bed while she tightly held the covers around her to protect herself from his annoying remarks and smirks. Eventually she had come around and invited him to sit with her while she sketched or studied. They shared awkward moments where a hand would accidentally brush an arm. He squeezed his eyes shut further; attempting to shield himself from the fact that he'd never see her again.

Mustering up the courage to continue with his mission, he slowly rose to his feet. He scanned the room quickly for signs of life, and finding none, darted towards the privy at the end of the dorm. When he reached it, he pulled back the chest that hid the hole between the girls' dorm and that of the boys. Squeezing through the hole, he pushed the adjacent chest aside and immediately slid out of the wall. As he turned to the right, he could see the wardrobe that stood near the exterior wall of the room. Despite his weakened state from lack of nutrition, he threw the entirety of his body's strength into pushing the heavy piece of furniture away from the wall. When he moved it enough from the wall, he could see the hole in the wall that he had previously used to escape the Tower was still there.

_Finally_, he thought to himself, _a __break!_

He stepped out of the privy into the boys' dormitory once more, intending to head back to retrieve the other mages and apprentices. As he turned towards the door, he froze. There was someone at the doorway. Some _thing_. An abomination. He began to step back slowly, unsure that he had recovered enough from his bout with captivity and the horrid wards that severed his connection with the Fade.

Immediately he reached into his robes for the lyrium he found – he would need it to be able to fight the creature. He grasped one of the vials without taking his eyes off of the wretched thing that was stalking into the dorm. Unsure of whether the vial contained what he required, or was simply filled with healing potion, he continued to step backwards very slowly and lifted the vial into his line of sight. One step landed awkwardly on a pile of books on the floor, twisting his leg slightly. His loss of concentration proved devastating to his stealth; the vial slipped out of his hand, crashing right in front of him on the stone floor. He looked down – lyrium! As soon as his eyes rose again, he could see the abomination. It had heard the clatter and was already moving towards him.

Anders spun and rushed towards the privy and then towards his ultimate escape route. Diving into the hole in the wall, he backed as far as he could into the tunnel, hoping the creature would not find him. But the evil thing was much faster than he was and immediately followed him to his hiding spot. The abomination scraped and scratched at the stone walls, causing some of them to fall out of place. As it pounded at the wall, trying to get in towards him, the entire structure began to collapse. The mage quickly backed down the tunnel as his only way back into the Tower promptly caved in, becoming inaccessible.

_Oh Wynne. Petra. I've failed you all…_

He crawled through the rest of the wall, down into the earth and out into the early evening air. Dusk had fallen over Lake Calenhad, providing a good cover for him to escape. His first thoughts were to run. To just run and never look back. He had tried to do a good deed – he wanted to rescue the mages that were trapped. But what good would it have done for him to stroll back into the Tower to let Greagoir and the other templars guarding the main entrance simply recapture him there? Or worse…kill him outright? At the very least, he'd have been dead – not concerned about the problems of the living.

Maybe he'd have even found Eli in the Fade.

But no. He wasn't ready to die. He wanted to die a free man, and he was not yet there. And so he ran.

He ran to the edge of the lake…ran straight into the water. Swam and swam as quickly as he could to the other side. And when he emerged from the lake, he kept running.

As far away from the chaos of the Circle Tower as his legs could take him.

* * *

><p>The cries from the Harrowing Chamber dissipated. As the door opened slowly, the First Enchanter exited the room and slowly descended the stairs. He had been especially shocked when the two Grey Wardens had entered the hall to rescue him and the other mages from Uldred, a senior mage gone insane. The Grey Wardens whom he thought had perished at Ostagar. He was particularly happy to see his prized student, Elirezara leading the charge. A wise choice it was for the Wardens to allow her into their ranks.<p>

Irving had been through an ordeal and was forced to rest at the bottom of the steps. He leaned against an overturned table and breathed heavily. Wynne approached him and stood next to Elirezara.

"Will you be alright, First Enchanter?" Wynne asked the man.

"Yes, yes, Wynne," he replied. "I am merely tired. My energy has been sapped and I am no longer the young mage I once was."

Elirezara smiled softly at him. "I am glad we reached you in time."

"As am I. I fear I'd have not survived for much longer," he replied. He peered at Elirezara for a moment. "My dear, is there something on your mind?"

"It is nothing," she said quietly, looking towards the ground.

Irving lifted her chin back up and his old eyes looked into hers. "It is never nothing. What is troubling you?"

"I…" she began. "I have been wondering about someone. A friend from the Circle."

"Ahh," he replied. "Anders."

She nodded.

"He was found not long ago. Prior to this chaos, he was being held in the lower levels of the Tower. I do not know what has become of him."

Elirezara's face brightened for a moment. "He is here then?"

Wynne interjected quickly. "Petra discovered him in the cells. She freed him and he told us that he was going to try to find a way out. That he would return for us. He never returned."

"No," the Warden mage protested. "He would never have left you if there was a way to come back."

"The boy was in a weakened state after the ordeal he'd been through in the cell. Shortly after he left, an abomination attacked our group. It came from the direction he headed. I fear that he may not have survived his search for an exit," Wynne stated sadly. She placed a hand softly on the younger mage's shoulder. Elirezara quickly shrugged away from her attempt to comfort and hurried away from the two older mages. As she exited the room, her Grey Warden companion Alistair quickly followed.

He approached her quickly.

"Eli," he said, "what is it? What's happened?"

She turned away from him. "Please don't call me Eli. I don't want you to call me that anymore."

Alistair backed away a step. "I…okay, I won't. I won't call you that. But…what happened?"

He watched her raise her head and she slowly turned back around to face him. He could see she was on the verge of tears.

After taking a deep breath, she blinked away the salt water in her eyes. "There was a part of my life…from here at the Circle. It's…it's gone now. It's never going to return. I'm just…"

"Shhh," Alistair interjected. "You don't need to say another word."

He stepped forward and embraced her, holding her close for awhile. "It'll be okay, Elirezara," he whispered softly into her ear.

One more deep breath. Then a second.

Would it ever be okay again? She doubted that. But as she placed a brave façade atop the one that shivered incessantly with fear and wept with loneliness, Alistair began to walk her to the base of the Circle Tower.

At least he was there to protect her.

At least he had never run.


End file.
